The Renegades (The Superiors)

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The Renegades (The Superiors) Page 17

by Lena Hillbrand


  Perhaps it was not so silly to her—perhaps a Superior had hurt her when she’d worked in the restaurants. And certainly a breeder would have been unpleasant, and she’d mentioned that Larry had paid her unwelcome attention.

  Draven lowered her right foot and took up the other, cradling it between his hands at first, moving on to her calf and thigh, stopping at the height he estimated she’d protest. When he finished, Cali pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders and sat up. The sudden movement sent Leo tumbling off the side of the blanket onto the stone floor. Instantly he awoke and let out a mournful wail, clearly indignant at receiving such treatment. Cali snatched him up and kissed his reddening face repeatedly, sneaking guilty glances at Draven all the while. He shook his head again and returned to the fire, contemplating her oddness.

  After feeding the fire, he surveyed the most shadowy section under the overhang. “I will take sleep for a few hours,” he said. “Rest if you wish. Please awaken me when the sun is in the middle of the sky. We will leave then.” Having donned his hat and shades while he spoke, he turned his back to the light and curled up on the hard stone floor to sleep. He’d not slept in a real bed for so long that the backseat of a car had felt like luxury. Now, sleeping in a snow bank would have seemed a luxury compared to this.

  When he awoke, the sun was hurtling off center towards the west. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he saw what he had sensed the moment his consciousness returned. All his things, the backpack and supplies and gear, lay just as he had left them. Cali had vanished.

  His sense of panic rising every moment, he sprang from the cold stone floor and into the entrance of the shelter, scenting in either direction. Her scent lingered over everything, but only coals remained in the fire pit, radiating a dull heat. For a moment, two, more, Draven waited for a tangible signal, anything to indicate which way she’d gone. A fragment of sound found its way to him, half a word of Leo’s babbling, curling over the rustling leaves and sighing branches, the gurgling water, the forest sounds that suddenly deafened his exerted senses.

  In an instant, Draven leapt from the ledge and started in the humans’ direction. He had not gone far before he spotted them. Leo sat on the bank of the creek, half wrapped in the blanket, gathering handfuls of the small stones around him, depositing some in his mouth and some in his lap. The babbling sounds that had failed to escape Draven as successfully as his human captives poured forth from the sapling’s mouth, now easily discernible over the noises around them.

  Draven’s eyes swept across the child, absorbing the necessary information before being arrested by the sight before him. Cali stood in the creek with her bare back to him, the icy water circling her thighs as she bathed herself. For a few moments, perhaps longer, Draven stood watching, in the grip of her strange spell. Of course, he had every right to watch his saps so they did not attempt an escape, especially a repeat offender like Cali. Only…he did not watch her in that capacity. He did not watch her as if she were a sapien at all.

  Realizing the direction of his thoughts, he turned abruptly and hurried back to the cave. He could not imagine what strange enchantment had taken hold of him, or how to rid himself of it.

  Chapter 30

  “I know it’s Kidd and that’s a fact,” Byron said. “I guarantee you he’s involved.”

  “Can’t guarantee unless you got proof. And you,” Milton said, stabbing his index finger onto the surface of his desk for emphasis, “don’t have proof.”

  “But you should have seen him,” Byron insisted. “He knew about my runaway sapien, and no one knew about that. He said someone told him. I ask you this, who could have told him?”

  Milton shrugged his broad, hard shoulders. “I don’t know, but I don’t guess we can arrest a man for knowing your business.”

  “I know. He has people hiding out in the woods, working for him. That’s where these missing people went. That’s where he’s taken my saps. They’re working for him, and that incubus is in on it, too.”

  “I hate to tell you this, Enforcer, but you’re starting to worry me.”

  Byron had to admit, he couldn’t blame the man. He had no proof, and now he’d started spouting theories about people hiding in the woods. If Marisol had heard him, she would have said he sounded ‘cuckoo.’ Still, he knew the kid was just not right.

  “Fine, but I still want to know how he found out. I’m telling you, he could barely contain his glee at my loss. He must have done it.”

  “So the kid’s a little shit. I’ll give you that. He can’t control his own property, so he takes pleasure in the same misfortune befalling others. That doesn’t mean he’s involved. He doesn’t even live around here. He registers when he leaves town, and he was in Texas when that happened.”

  “I’m telling you. He’s got all those missing saps hidden away somewhere. And mine with them.”

  “Or maybe they just ran away. More likely, though, this Draven fellow stole them. We have proof of that. Don’t worry, when the trackers bring him in, we’ll convict. If he says Kidd’s involved, that’s evidence. But the simplest theory is usually correct. Things are usually just what they seem.”

  Byron seethed. He didn’t need this arrogant prick telling him what every Enforcer knew, as if he’d just won the job. He knew as much as Milton, and this time, more.

  “I’m not worried about Draven,” Byron spat. “He’s only a Third. But I would like to pursue investigating this kid. I’ll do it on my own time.”

  Milton sighed and ran a big hand over his polished scalp. “Byron, I know you think he’s a suspect, but we’ve already sent Enforcers into his private property twice, and nothing came of it. And he contacted me personally to tell me that Enforcers have been following him to meetings and lingering around his home. Know anything about that?”

  “Sure. I told them to tail him for a while.”

  “Byron, you can’t do that. No evidence, no suspect. I don’t think the government will be too happy to learn you’ve been employing their Enforcers against policy. I’m going to have to ask you not to be involved with him anymore.”

  “But he’ll be here in a month, less than a month. He’s already invited me over.”

  “Accepting that invitation would not be wise, Enforcer. You’ve gotten involved personally.” Milton pushed back from his desk and studied Byron before continuing. “We understand, of course. You lost your sapiens, and that’s hard on anyone. It’s a big investment. But unless Meyer becomes a suspect, I don’t want you communicating with him in any way, or ordering others to do so. Believe me, we all want this case solved, but you can’t start pointing fingers just to fit your fancy.”

  “Milton, I respect your orders. But how is Meyer going to be a suspect when no one is collecting evidence against him? I can build this case. I know I can.”

  “Maybe you should take some time off, concentrate on settling into our fine city. Are you making friends?”

  Byron turned and stalked out of the office. Milton’s appearance alone aroused his ire. Now he had insinuated he’d take him off the assignment altogether. Byron would not let that happen. He would not let his temper get the better of him. That damned kid would slip up eventually. And Byron would be waiting when he did.

  And though Milton had ordered him not to communicate with Meyer, he hadn’t said anything about watching him. As soon as Meyer arrived, Byron would hound him every second of the night, staying just close enough that Meyer could feel the pressure, but not so close that he could accuse Byron of wrongdoing.

  On his way home, Byron stopped to get a case of canned sap to supplement what he got from his remaining sapien each night. Back at his apartment, he collapsed into his chair, but immediately stood again, yanked off his jacket and flung it across the room. This souldamned job, city, friends, sapiens. His whole life had gone to shit since he’d taken this assignment.

  He cursed as he stalked around the crummy apartment, wishing he’d stayed at home, where he had a family, a big house with all hi
s things, obedient saps, respectful colleagues, warm weather, and all that he was accustomed and entitled to as a Second. But no use wasting time with homesickness. If he wanted to go home, he knew how to make it happen—solve the damn case.

  Having calmed himself, he returned to his desk, sat, opened a can of sap, and called the trackers.

  “Sir, your signal’s coming in,” Lapin said. “What can we do for you, Enforcer?”

  “Got anything? Any news?”

  “We found some things, sir. We’re on the trail. But they had a good start on us, sir.”

  “What’d you find?”

  “A few fires they buried, sir. Somehow they aren’t leaving a scent, but we found two fires and we’re looking for a third to put us on some sort of path. We picked up the scent of your sapien around both fires, so we know it’s them. Funny thing is, they aren’t leaving a trail on the ground. We don’t know what’s going on, sir.”

  “Maybe he’s carrying her?”

  “Could be, sir. His scent would have faded by now. We can’t trace him after this long, sir.”

  “Can you set your pod to track his?” Byron asked, though he didn’t know if Thirds, even trackers, had this feature on their pods. He had access to these things, but as an Enforcer, he had access to many resources that Thirds, and even most Seconds, didn’t have.

  “He doesn’t have a pod, sir. That’s typical of criminals. But of course you know that, Sir Enforcer. But we’re experts at scenting, and we usually pick right up on a trail and don’t need hi-tech gadgets. Sir.”

  “Dammit. Let me think what I can do for you.” Byron could activate a tracer on Draven’s pin, but that would mean he’d have to hunt him in the woods himself. Trackers didn’t know about pins any more than any other Third did. And of course, he couldn’t trace Cali’s locator chip anymore. Even a dumb shit like Draven would have cut hers out the first chance he got. The scrambled code was only a temporary fix—an expert could overwrite it and get a good signature as long as the chip hadn’t yet been destroyed.

  “All due respect, sir, I don’t think we’ll need anything. Lathan just found another fire. There’s a pattern of sorts, we know the direction they’re going. Shouldn’t be too long, sir. If we don’t find them in two more weeks, we might call in a couple more trackers, but I don’t see us needing that, sir.”

  “Call with any news.”

  “We won’t be coming back until we find your sapiens, sir. I’ll help look for clues around the fire when you’re done with me, sir.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t want to hold up your progress. Thanks for keeping me updated.”

  “Anytime, Enforcer. Call any night you like, sir.”

  Byron disconnected and leaned back with a sigh. Things were looking up again. If he hadn’t learned his lesson on the folly of encouraging Thirds who looked promising, he’d have taken a greater interest in Lapin. But after Draven’s betrayal, he’d never waste his time on a piece of Third Order trash again. Besides, he had more pressing concerns, like Kidd’s arrival, and getting his saps back and punishing them. Nothing to get too excited about until then, but in two weeks, things should liven up around this hillbilly hellhole.

  Chapter 31

  It took the trackers twenty days to find Draven and his captives, nineteen days longer than he expected. Every moment since he’d stolen a Second’s livestock, he had watched for the trackers, awaiting their arrival. He had absolute faith in trackers’ abilities. He had been one. And he’d never failed.

  That night, before the trackers found them, had been a long, cold one. A thin layer of crystallized snowflakes covered the needles on the trees around them and those blanketing the ground underfoot. Higher in the mountains, a thicker layer of snow had fallen, whitening the visible ridges and peaks. Pellets of frozen snow slashed the travelers’ faces, and an icy wind cut through their clothing and burned their exposed skin. Cali walked beside Draven, head ducked to shield her face from the punishing gusts, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders over her coat. Neither spoke.

  The child, who had become increasingly ill-tempered over the past few nights, now dangled limply from the pack, staring at Draven’s chest with unfocused eyes. The incessant crying had ceased, at least temporarily, and for that Draven could not complain. Instead, the boy passed a silent night, with occasional bouts of fussing, wrapped in as many layers as he would tolerate. For perhaps a week now, the sapling had eaten only dried milk, and Draven had noticed his heartbeat growing sluggish, although he had said nothing of it to Cali.

  Draven had nearly given up walking for the night, deciding instead to give Leo and Cali, and himself if he were honest, some reprieve from the scouring wind. Since he did not favor camping in the open, he searched for semi-sheltered alcoves along the faces of boulders and cliffs. They had followed the creek whenever possible since the day they’d found it, when Draven had killed the deer. The bank had grown too steep for Cali that night, so they’d strayed a bit from the water’s course and walked in the woods nearby, staying close enough that Draven could return to the water whenever Cali’s bags needed filling.

  As Draven came away from yet another set of boulders without finding a suitable camping spot, something in the woods gave him pause. Some measured sound alerted his senses, distinguishable in its deliberate quality, foreign among the sighing sounds of the pines, the wind in the branches that alternately whispered and wailed, never steady or cautious, as this sound had been.

  Draven spun towards Cali. “Superiors,” he whispered, knowing they would hear him, but having no effective silent means to communicate with Cali. He knew they had only moments before the trackers would set upon them. Tearing the blanket from Cali’s stiff fingers, he fumbled for the handle of the knife she kept tucked in the waistband of her trousers. His fingers closed around it just as the first trace of Superior scent reached his nostrils. He yanked the knife free and thrust it into her hand.

  Snatching the long, crude knife from him, she held it close, her knuckles white as she gripped the handle. Her breathing quickened and her heart raced, but she did not speak through her stiff, bluish lips. Still, her eyes shifted in a panicked way that reminded him of the deer he’d killed, and for a moment, he feared she would bolt. “It will work,” he assured her as he bent to scoop her into his arms. “Use it.”

  He leapt into a nearby tree, barely giving Cali time to catch her balance before he shoved Leo into her arms and dropped to the ground once more. Snatching the backpack and bag he’d deposited there, he straightened, propelling himself into the tree in the same movement. He caught the branch and swung up to join his humans on the limb. After verifying that the Superiors hadn’t yet reached his side of the creek, he removed the pack and fastened it to a branch above them. Then he knelt beside Cali and waited.

  The trackers had not followed their exact trail, but had come upon them nonetheless, and had likely followed them for some time before Draven heard them. Now, incredibly, they seemed to be overshooting their target. Draven crouched next to Cali, answering her questioning look with the smallest shake of his head. Lips tight, breath halted, Draven waited, casting his senses in search of the trackers that had so certainly spotted them, and just as certainly, passed them by.

  For several long minutes, Draven remained motionless, straining to catch a trace of scent or the measured beat of footfalls. Just as he’d begun to believe he’d imagined it, that he’d lost his mind entirely, the scent swelled around them, so potent he couldn’t imagine how Cali remained unaware. They’d found a crossing and doubled back, upwind of him now, coming within thirty meters of the tree where Draven had stashed his captives. They fell in closer, and closer still, until Draven could see them drawing nearer every moment, though he could do nothing to prevent their approach. They passed beneath the branch where he and Cali and the child huddled motionless, frozen by cold and fear.

  “Hey, Lathan,” one of the trackers said quietly. “The trail stops.”

  Draven glanced at Cali, who stare
d back wild-eyed with terror, and he knew he could not call on her to participate in what he intended. Though he’d rather do almost anything than kill again, he could think of no preferable alternative. If he did not kill the trackers, they would capture both him and Cali. Once back in Princeton, he’d face a trial and certainly be executed for his crimes. And Cali…as terrible a fate awaited her, even if Byron spared her life.

  Although Draven had not had time to remove it before the trackers approached, the steel chain that had once bound him in the grave now rested in the bottom of his pack. If he could retrieve it, and if he could subdue the trackers somehow while he did so, perhaps he could bind the men instead of killing them. But if Draven left these men bound in steel to survive the elements until new trackers arrived, they’d never give up the search for him until they’d exacted revenge. And he’d lose the chain, itself a priceless—if renegade—weapon.

  “Where are they?” asked the second tracker from further off. The shrieking wind threatened to drown his words before they reached their audience.

  If Draven killed these two, Superior society would never see him as anything more than a traitor to his race, a wanted man, and a dangerous criminal. Kill-on-sight status. No trial, no jail time.

  The two men returned, tracking backwards until they stood directly beneath the three fugitives. “You’d think they disappeared right here. The trail just ends,” one said. “But listen…”

  Draven knew what they heard. He could mask Cali’s scent, the wind could whip away his own scent and obscure the sound of her and the child breathing. But the throb of her heart expanding and contracting deep inside her, squeezing hot blood through her body, could be neither disguised nor mistaken. It seemed now more pronounced than ever before, hammering so violently that Draven imagined he could feel it sending out a shockwave with each pulse, as if the air itself were charged with her electric heat that throbbed against him in the raw darkness. Nothing could subdue her lurid heat, his constant exultation and torment, and now, their downfall.

 

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